


This match made was made in a moment

by La_Pacifidora



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Pacifidora/pseuds/La_Pacifidora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And so it was that Annie and Jeff found themselves facing off against the other in a fight to the prettiest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [Milady/Milord on LJ in April 20ll](http://milady-milord.livejournal.com/404427.html).
> 
> Spoilers: Assumes knowledge through 2.19, “Critical Film Studies,” AU after that
> 
> Disclaimers: Not mine. Although I think Dan Harmon knows this friend of mine and based Troy on her… The title is from a song by The Essex Green. I also don’t own Facebook. (Uh. Duh.)
> 
> Author’s note: I’m blaming amtrak12 and honey_pie1 for this one. It started out of a discussion of how Annie managed to make that awful wig in 2.19 look fantastic, and turned into ‘what if the group had a pretty off.’ (This was before I’d read the comment about a ‘handsome off’ in Alison Brie’s recent Vulture interview.) I’d also like to thank treblebeth for her invaluable help, my friend Kiera for talking me off a ledge and htbthomas for her input.

Shirley turned her head to one side, taking in Andre’s sleeping face, and stared at him for several moments. 

“Andre?” She said quietly. “Sweetie? Are you awake?” She tensed as he shifted in his sleep before snorting and rolled onto his back, the arm he’d thrown around her waist disappearing as he pulled the comforter up and settled down again. She waited another minute before she carefully slid from the bed and padded out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen.

Shirley poured herself a glass of apple juice and settled at the kitchen table, running two fingers over the touchpad of her laptop and waiting as it booted from hibernation. She reached over and pulled a folder close, flipping it open and pulling out a photocopy of a competition bracket with names written in and each person’s odds of winning written at the bottom of the page. Her brow furrowed as she stared at the bracket, tapping a finger against her lips and then turned to the screen of her laptop, opening the internet browser and navigating to her Facebook page.

She selected the group at the left titled ‘Study Peeps’ and smiled to herself as it loaded, giggling quietly at the picture Troy had made for her in Photoshop: Seven marshmallow Peeps had been inserted into a photo of Study Group Room F. She selected a tab at the top of the page, and scrolled down until she saw updates from Jeff and Annie. 

Annie’s posting was from about two and a half hours earlier. It indicated it was made from Facebook Mobile, and consisted of three paragraphs:

**Total to date: 67**

**Total tonight: 9 (and it’s still early!)**

**3035982201  
3037022393  
3035332636  
3034172198  
3038197560  
3036142161  
3032611130  
3031035130  
3038613870 :)**

There was a post from Jeff, made about 30 minutes later, also from Facebook Mobile, which looked similar:

**Total: 70**

**Tonight: 8**

**3031089700  
3034407700  
3036358801  
3038675309  
3032121007  
3034793302  
3036147808  
3032518987**

Shirley nodded to herself and flipped her bracket sheet over, writing down the date, time and new totals next to Annie and Jeff’s names. Then she scrolled further up the page and read the latest update, which was from Annie’s cellphone about 40 minutes ago. Her brow furrowed deeper as she read the petite brunette’s brief posting:

**Annie Edison**

**Forfeit.**

**Saturday at 1:23am via Facebook Mobile • Like • Comment • Share**

Shirley tapped her pen against the table top and tapped the refresh button at the top of the screen, chewing her lower lip when no new posts appeared. She sat back in her chair and stared at her laptop screen, wondering whether she should try calling Annie at this hour. She drank the last of her apple juice and shook her head: It was late, and she was nearly five months pregnant. Whatever shenanigans the children were up to could wait till morning.

But as she slipped back under the covers of her bed, and laced her fingers through Andre’s when he rolled over and threw an arm over her waist, she couldn’t entirely ignore the nagging feeling that perhaps not everything with Annie was kosher.

(Then she grinned when she considered what she’d just thought to herself: And they said she couldn’t be open minded about other religions!)  
***  
It started with a discussion of chimpanzee mating habits in Anthropology. Specifically, whether the success of a male looking for a mate was affected by how much effort he expended. The class eventually devolved into Professor Duncan clicking through the Facebook profiles of Greendale students and the class shouting out where the students ranked on a scale of one to ten.

After class, the study group headed to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat, though Britta’s outrage over Duncan’s sexist assessments of female students soon put the others off their appetite. It took Abed asking if she was only upset because she hadn’t been included to stop her mid-tirade.

“I am not!” Britta’s jaw dropped, and she made small noises of disbelief. “I don’t need to be judged by a bunch of people I don’t really know in some random class to _know_ I’m the best-” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening comically before she grabbed a carrot stick and popped it in her mouth, chewing vigorously.

“You’re the best _what_?” Jeff tilted his head and squinted at the blonde in suspicion. 

“ _Nothing_.” Britta replied quickly, her voice high and defensive.

“You think you’re the best looking person in our class.” Jeff said, placing both palms on the tabletop and leaning forward, as Annie snaked a finger out and dragged his lunch tray and the remnants of his salad out of the way. “And as we’re all in the same class, that means you think you’re the best looking person in our group.”

“What?” Britta’s eyebrows rose several inches, and she began shaking her head. “No. No!” She shrank a little as the rest of the group turned accusatory gazes on her, and her face crumpled a little as she chewed on the side of her thumb. “OK, but I don’t think it all the time!”

“A-Ha!” Jeff pointed a finger at her, even as his face twisted in confusion. Annie and Troy both put hands to their throats as they gasped. Abed raised a single eyebrow while Pierce mumbled something about uppity lesbians.

“Oh, Britta.” Shirley pursed her lips and shook her head. “That’s not nice.”

“I’m sorry!” Britta threw up both her hands as she shrugged, then crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her chin defiantly. “But it’s not like you’ve never done the same thing.”

The others all spoke at once, denying any such thing, until Jeff held up a hand and drew his fingers together in a familiar gesture. 

“Who wants to make this a little more interesting?”  
***  
The rules of the study group’s little competition were simple and finite.

One, the winner would be the first to collect 100 legitimate phone numbers in 30 days.

Two, the men would square off against the women.

(Britta had quickly protested this rule, saying it was sexist. Abed had, unusually, voiced his agreement, saying it wouldn’t be fair as the men in their group already outnumbered the women and, as Shirley was trying to make a go of it with her ex-husband, the women would be down even more. 

Chang had stuck his head over the back of the banquette from the next cafeteria table and offered to take Shirley’s spot. Shirley directed a death glare at the eager man, who shrugged and said that if she didn’t want him, he should have a chance to participate in the nookie bowl. After the rest of the group finished groaning in disgust, Jeff pointedly reminded Chang he was, in fact, still married. Shirley also explained, in no uncertain terms, that if it Chang turned out to be the father and he played this game, she’d do whatever it took to keep him from being involved in the child’s life.

A deflated Chang withdrew his offer to participate and turned back to his lunch, grumbling quietly about “pushy sistahs.” Shirley reached over the banquette and smacked him upside the head.)

Rule two was changed to reflect the gender imbalance of the group: Jeff, Abed and Pierce would face off against Britta, Annie and Troy.

Three, a running tally would be kept though their Facebook group.

Four, all numbers would have to be written down or entered into phones and must be produced on demand if a spot check was requested by any member of the group.

Five, no instances of ‘I gave him/her my number so he/she could call me’ would be accepted: This was a contest to see who could collect the most phone numbers, not the other way around.

Six, a number from either sex could be counted towards someone’s total.

(Pierce had responded, predictably, that this was ‘gay,’ but when he was reminded it would help his final score, he relented and asked Jeff for tips on how to attract the fellas.)

Seven, there would be only one overall winner.

Eight, in the event of a tie, there would be a sudden-death round in the cafeteria. The first person to secure five additional numbers would win. Failing that, the winner would be whoever had the most by a margin of at least three.

Nine, numbers from other members of the group did not count.

Ten, no one was allowed to sabotage anyone else’s chance at chatting someone up.

With minimal complaining, they all agreed to the rules. A bracket was drawn up and photocopied, with Shirley acting as judge and referee, and the game was on.

Britta repeated her belief that it shouldn’t matter who in the group was the most attractive, was summarily ignored, and showed up the next day in a skirt and with an extra bounce in her ever-so-slightly curled hair.

(Chang snuck a copy of the bracket out of the study room and began quietly taking bets on each person’s odds of making it to the end.)

Pierce and Troy were knocked out of the Sweet Six: Neither of them managed to collect more than 30 phone numbers. Pierce blamed a lack of taste in the local female population. Troy blamed Pierce, who insisted on being his wing man whenever they were out.

Britta and Annie had awkwardly agreed to hit a few bars together, confident they would fare better if they played up the ‘two girls on the town’ image. It helped, but not enough to prevent Britta and Abed from being knocked out of the Final Four.

And so it was that Annie and Jeff found themselves facing off against the other in a fight to the prettiest.  
***  
There were only two days in the competition left: The final counts were due Monday at the start of their study session. Friday night, the group – sans Shirley – gathered at Flannery’s Wake, a generic chain that had opened in the old Flanagan’s Hole location.

But unlike Troy’s failed birthday party four months earlier, they met for drinks _and_ dinner: Flannery’s Wake branded itself as a gastropub and boasted an extensive menu of fancy bar food.

The hostess stuck the seven of them in a roomy corner booth between the dining room and the bar, well within view of the server’s station and the TVs that all played basketball. (Except for two: One was tuned to CNN, which was Nancy Grace at this hour, and one that seemed to be running E! news on a loop.)

The evening started out promisingly: Thirty minutes in, Jeff and Annie each had three new numbers. However, as the hours wore on and the dinner crowd gave way to an assortment of 30- and 40-somethings out for drinks with friends, the sense of camaraderie around the study group made it difficult for either of the two remaining competitors to leave the table.

Eventually, Pierce excused himself, saying he had a date to meet. (Troy explained it was with a glass of warm milk and _The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson_ when the older man left to close out his tab at the bar.) Abed was the next to leave, as he had to get up early the next morning to drive to a political rally up north in Cheyenne.

When Britta finished nursing her fourth and final vodka neat, she staggered to the ladies room, with Annie trailing behind. Troy went up to the bar to take care of both his and Britta’s tabs, then came back and leaned against the next table while he waited for the girls to return. Jeff eyed the younger man as he settled back against the booth seat and sipped his scotch, noting the absent drumming of Troy’s fingers against the tabletop and the alert way he kept looking around. Jeff squinted and cleared his throat.

“Troy.” He waited a moment before shaking his head slightly and raising his voice. “Troy.”

“What?”

“Hurricanes are bad, Troy.” Jeff held the younger man’s gaze for a long moment.

“I know.” Troy stared back at Jeff, raising his chin defiantly.

“And there’s a fine line between terror and excitement. It’s easy to lose track of it in the rush of a storm.”

“I _know_.” Troy blinked slowly and stood up a little straighter.

“OK.” Jeff nodded. “Just remember how shitty FEMA is at disaster response.”

“Dude, there’s a point where every metaphor falls apart.” Troy’s eyes widened. “And I think you _just_ reached it.” He looked over and stood up from the table as Britta and Annie approached, the brunette holding a hand near the blonde’s elbow as they wove between tables. “Hey. You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Britta made a face and stuck out her tongue. “Annie, could you pass me my bag?” She swayed a little as the brunette leaned over and retrieved the messenger bag. “Thanks. Night, Annie.” She stepped forward and threw both arms around the younger woman’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “Sorry I puked in the sink.”

“It’s OK.”

“Sorry some of it got on your shoes.”

“It’s OK, Britta.” Annie smiled and patted the blonde on the back before looking over at Troy. “Maybe you could stop at a gas station and get her a bottle of water?” 

“Yeah.”

“Annie.” Britta pulled back to look the brunette in the eye and assumed a serious expression. “ _Annie_. I need to tell you something.” She swayed forward, her forehead banging into Annie’s sharply. “Ow. _Oww_.” She moved her head to Annie’s ear and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I know you can win this.” She leaned back and gave the brunette a kind smile. She turned to look over at Jeff and her smile dimmed a little. “Night, Winger.”

“Night, Hooch.” Jeff saluted Britta with his glass. He looked back at Troy. “Hurricanes, Troy.”

“I _know_ , Jeff.” Troy shook his head before looping one of Britta’s arms around his shoulders and leaned over to kiss Annie on the cheek. “Night, Annie.” He glanced back at Jeff and dropped his voice. “Kill ‘im, Edison.”

“OK.” Annie laughed. “Night, Troy. Bye, Britta!” She waved as they left before turning back to the booth, and slid back onto the seat, picking up her drink and swirling it around before finishing it off. She looked around the empty dining room, then looked over at the bar area. She glanced over at Jeff. “Want to take this party over there?”

Jeff followed her gaze to the bar, which was still fairly busy, then looked back at Annie. He wasn’t sure if it was the scotch or the dimmed lighting in the dining room, but he found the curl of her hair where it lay against her shoulders strangely intriguing. Shaking his head to break whatever Annie-induced stupor he’d slipped into, he glanced down at his watch.

“It’s nearly midnight.”

“It’s only-” Annie tapped the screen of her cellphone and read the time. “11:10.” She looked up at him and raised a single eyebrow. “If you think I’m going to let you stay here and pick up more numbers just so you can win, you’ve got another thing coming.” She shook her finger at him. “The force of the power wag compels you.”

“That’s not-” Jeff started, then stopped and looked down into his glass. “Whatever.” He slid out of the booth, waiting until she also stood before heading toward the bar. When they were both settled on their stools, Jeff leaned on the bar and waited till he caught the eye of the bartender.

“I’ll have another scotch, neat.” Jeff held up his glass before setting it down. “And the lady will have-” He turned to Annie, who was leaning to look around him and survey the crop of men. “Annie. Annie.” He sighed in exasperation. “ _Edison_.” He said sharply, smiling and nodding to the bartender when her gaze snapped back to meet his. “What’re you drinking again?”

“ _Jeff_.” Annie rolled her eyes. “I can’t order my own drink.”

“Uh huh.” Jeff looked over at the bartender. “She’s still deciding.” He turned his attention back to the brunette as a fresh glass of scotch was set down at his elbow. “And why can’t you order your own drink?”

“Because then how will I get the phone number of whatever guy comes up and offers to buy me a drink?” A bright smile lit up Annie’s face, and she shifted on her bar stool, crossing her legs and tucking her hair behind one ear before smoothing a hand over her skirt where it stretched across her thighs.

Jeff watched her intently, then noticed she wasn’t actually looking at him. He followed her gaze to a spot over his shoulder and zeroed in on the guy with shaggy blond hair that brushed the collar of his Oxford shirt – the same guy whose eyes were following every movement Annie made and grinning. Jeff grunted and turned to face the bar, taking a sip of his scotch and focusing his attention on the nearest TV.

“I’m sorry, Jeff.” Annie said absently as she gave her hair a toss and looked away before returning her eyes to the shaggy haired blond. “Did you say something?”

“No.” Jeff said, pulling out his cellphone and opening up his Bejeweled app. “Just…” He nodded up at the TV. “Seacrest.”  
***  
The crowd at the bar thinned out considerably after midnight. Annie began to droop around a quarter to one, propping her chin up in her hand and playing with the straw in her Brown Pelican as Jeff explained the intricacies of fantasy league sports.

She looked up from her glass, where she’d been using the straw to dribble liquid over the slowly melting ice, and looked over at Jeff. He was the most animated she’d seen him all night – with the exception of when he and Troy had quizzed Abed about the rally the younger man was going to the next day – and she smiled as she traced the line of his profile with her eyes. 

(Sure, it was a little fuzzier than she was used to, but she’d only had a few sips of Abed’s beer. She wondered for a moment if Jeff was actually getting fuzzier as the night wore on – like, maybe, he suffered from some horrible, wasting condition that caused his skin to break down at a molecular level around midnight.  
She blinked, coming back to the sound of his voice as he explained some apparently key factor in choosing players for your fantasy league team, and decided she needed to not marathon _Fringe_ on the weekends.)

Annie looked away from Jeff’s face, glancing around the bar and noticing a leggy, porcelain-skinned brunette who was sipping a cosmopolitan with one eye on the after-game show and one eye on Jeff as he sketched something out on a cocktail napkin. She looked back at Jeff, who was intent on whatever he was drawing out for her, and then glanced own at her cellphone, watching as the display changed to 1:05 a.m. She put a hand over her mouth as she yawned, then leaned forward, putting a hand on Jeff’s forearm and waiting until he looked up at her, his brows drawn together over the bridge of his nose.

“What?” One of Jeff’s brows quirked upward when Annie smiled at him softly, but his face relaxed as he matched her smile with one of his own.

“I don’t want you to worry.” She patted his arm and swallowed thickly. “I’m not really upset.”

“Annie?” Jeff’s pen dropped to the bar top with a quiet clink, and he put a hand over the one that lay on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Annie looked away quickly and shook her head, her eyes shut tight. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Edison, what’s wrong?” Jeff moved his hand to her upper arm and stood from his stool, looming over her with a look of concern.

“Oh, Jeff.” Annie put her hand on his where it held her arm and shook her head again before looking up at him with wide eyes. “There’s a brunette at 4 o’clock who’s been watching you for the last 15 minutes.” Annie blinked rapidly and forced herself to smile, though her lower lip trembled. “She’s never going to come over here if she thinks we’re here together.”

“I don’t understand.” Jeff leaned down, the look of concern on his face growing more pronounced.

“I’m making it look like I’m walking out on you. If she’s not over here in 10 minutes, then I know nothing about other women.”

“You-” Jeff paused, swallowing and closing his eyes for along moment before opening them to look down at Annie in disbelief. “You’re being my _wingman_?”

“Yep.” She bit her lower lip and looked away, taking a deep breath before she looked back up at him. “Sit down, Jeff.”

“OK.” He sat down heavily on the bar stool, and stared unseeingly at the carpet. Annie stood, dislodging his hand from her arm and pulled out a twenty, tucking it under her empty glass and taking a step out to the side. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, catching his chin her hand and turning his head so she could look him in the eye.

“Have fun.” She slid her fingers from his chin to his cheek and gazed at him sadly for a moment. “I’ll see you Monday.” She turned to walk away, but Jeff reached out and caught her hand, tugging her back.

“Why are you doing this?” Jeff kept the look of concern on his face, but his eyes were skeptical.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” Annie squeezed his hand and gave him a small, genuine smile. “This was just a bit of fun: It’s not as important to me to win as it is to you.” She squeezed his fingers again, then pulled them away and headed toward the doors, retrieving her coat and scarf from the coat room.

Jeff stared after her for a full minute, absently rubbing his fingers together, and then turned back to the bar. It was several moments before he realized someone had sat down on the vacant stool next to his. Turning his head, he found himself face to face with a sandy brunette with deep blue eyes and a small mole on her left cheek. She smiled as he met her eyes and leaned one arm on the bar, her blouse gaping open just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace edging her bra.

“Hi.” She drawled, running a finger around the rim of her Cosmo. “My name’s Andrea, and you look like you could use another scotch.”

“Jeff Winger.” Jeff held out a hand, blinking when she placed her own cool fingers in his as though she expected him to kiss her hand. “I could use another drink, but I think I’m done with scotch for the evening.”

“Really?” Andrea said, rolling the ‘r’ and drawing out the ‘ly.’ “And what would you like instead?” She waved the bar tender over and gestured in an ‘after you’ movement to Jeff.

“Coffee. Cream, two sugars.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff paused, and Annie suspected that if he was standing in front of her, he’d be wearing that smile that was a cross between ‘I know I’m adorable’ and ‘I’m not shutting up till you agree with me.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Assumes knowledge through 2.19, “Critical Film Studies,” AU after that
> 
> Disclaimers: Not mine. Although I think Dan Harmon knows this friend of mine and based Troy on her… The title is from a song by The Essex Green. I also do not own Sex and the City.
> 
> Author’s note: I’m blaming amtrak12 and honey_pie1 for this one. As much as amtrak12 wanted something dirty – and I perhaps foolishly promised that – this is as far as I took it. (I can always add more later, Am!) I’d like to thank my friend Kiera for talking me off a ledge and htbthomas for her input, both of whom convinced me to tweak this chapter and follow my gut on the ending.

Annie turned down her comforter and grabbed a hair tie from her bedside table, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail. She crossed to the fridge and pulled out her water pitcher, grabbing a glass from the dish rack and pouring the last of the water in before refilling the filter portion and setting the pitcher back in the fridge.

Walking to the couch, she folded one leg beneath her as she sat down and flipped on the TV as she sipped the water. She grabbed one of her limp throw pillows and punched it rather violently before tucking it between her side and the arm of the couch.

She was settling in to watch a _Sex and the City_ rerun on basic cable when her cellphone buzzed and skittered on the end table where she’d dropped her purse when she came in. She stared at it blankly for a second, then grabbed it and checked the display.

“What on earth…” She mumbled to herself, seeing Jeff’s name on the screen. The phone buzzed again in her hand, and she dropped it to the couch in surprise. She picked it up and saw the screen showed one missed call. She sighed and was about to set it back on the end table when it buzzed again: A glance at the screen showed Jeff’s name again. Frowning, she tapped the ‘accept’ button and held the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” 

Neither one of the said anything for a moment. Jeff broke the silence.

“You don’t remember me.”

“ _What_?”

“I should’ve known.” He chuckled. “My name’s Jeff Winger. We met in a bar tonight? You gave me your number?”

“I did?” Annie blinked at her TV screen, where Charlotte scolded a tiny dog.

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “This _is_ Annie, isn’t it?”

“Yes?”

“Good. I thought for a moment I’d put the wrong number in with the wrong name somehow.”

“What? Who is this?”

“Jeff. Jeff Winger? We met tonight, and you gave me your number.” He paused, and Annie suspected that if he was standing in front of her, he’d be wearing that smile that was a cross between ‘I know I’m adorable’ and ‘I’m not shutting up till you agree with me.’ “Normally, I wouldn’t call so soon – guess I’m typical that way – but you were the only person I met tonight I actually wanted to talk to again.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a moment, not really conscious of the grin that was now splitting her face. “Really? I thought there would’ve been plenty of women for you to talk to tonight.”

“There were. But it’s rare you meet someone you find yourself wanting to talk to again so soon.” He laughed again. “It’s also rare you find someone who’ll let you go on and on about fantasy sports without trying to stab you with a swizzle stick.”

“I didn’t have a swizzle stick.” She muted the already quiet TV and turned on the couch, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back against the arm.

“I know. Brown Pelicans don’t come with them. But it’s the principle of the thing.”

“I see.” She giggled before assuming a stern tone. “So there was really _no one_ else you would’ve rather been calling at-” She looked up at the clock above her kitchen table. “Two-oh-seven in the morning?”

“Nope.”

“That’s a shame.” She leaned her head against the back of the couch. “I thought I saw this brunette who looked nice.” She coughed to hide a laugh. “She looked like the sort of woman any guy would want to talk to.”

“I’m not any guy.” His tone matched hers in lightness, but there was something beneath it that gave Annie pause. She was silent for a moment, waiting for him to continue. “In any case, you left so quickly this evening, I suppose I just wanted to make sure you made it home OK. It’s kinda nasty out.”

“It’s just a little sleet.”

“Nope, it’s a snow and freezing rain mix now.”

“Huh.” Annie bent one leg and twisted her finger in the hem of her pajama pants. “Then thank you for your concern.”

“Of course.” Jeff cleared his throat. “Though, I’d feel better if I could see for myself that you made it home OK.”

“I don’t know.” Annie bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s a little bit late, don’t you think?”

“Let me come over, Annie.” Jeff’s tone was wheedling, and Annie could imagine him, on the other end of the phone, the forced cheer overlaying the self-deprecation and nervousness as he looked down even though there’d be no one there to look away from. 

“Um.” She closed her eyes and ran through the various outcomes of letting Jeff into her apartment in the wee hours of the morning. Before she could second guess herself, she spoke. “OK.” She forced herself to laugh. “I guess I can stay awake a little longer.”

“Good.”

“So. There really wasn’t anyone else worth talking to tonight?”

“Nope.” Jeff swore quietly under his breath, and Annie giggled. She stopped abruptly as a knock came from her front door, then inhaled sharply when the knock was repeated. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s at my door.”

“So?”

“ _Jeff_.” Annie rose slowly from the couch and walked quietly to her bed, reaching under it for the mop handle she kept just under the bed skirt. “I live in a bad neighborhood.” She crept toward the door, frowning when she couldn’t see a shadow under the door: The hall light must be out again. She mentally vowed to haunt her landlord if there was a killer on the other side of her door. “If you hear me start screaming, call 9-1-1, would you?” She reached the door and hesitated before checking the peephole. 

“Edison, I think you’re overreacting.”

“Would you open your door at this hour if you weren’t expecting anyone?” Annie took a deep breath and put an eye to the peephole.  
***  
“But you are expecting someone.” Jeff chuckled as he heard her gasp, and tried to hold back a smirk as he heard the deadbolts turning on the other side of the door. He shifted his weight to one side and stuck a hand in his coat pocket.

“Jeff?” Annie opened her door wide, staring at him with wide eyes, her cellphone still clutched in one hand and a long wooden pole tucked under her arm. “What are you- how did…” She trailed off, her mouth hanging open slightly. She blinked once, twice before continuing. “It takes-”

“What?” Jeff looked pointedly at the phone in her hand and shook his own a little. She frowned but raised her phone back to her ear.

“It’s a half hour from the bar to this part of town.”

“More if you need to find parking.”

“You had to have left right after I did.”

“I had a cup of coffee first.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, hard, shifting back and forth from foot to foot. She looked away, and Jeff noticed the blush rising on her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you: I wanted to make sure you got home OK.” He tilted his head to one side. “I had at least an inch of snow on my car. How did you get your car cleaned off so quickly?”

“I have an extendable snow brush.” She shrugged, and cleared her throat, clearly unsure whether she should invite him in. “Ho-how did you get in the building?”

“These guys were leaving when I got here.”

“Yeah.” Annie finally looked back up at Jeff, a wry smile on her lips. “Friday nights are big for drug dealing.” She stood up a little straighter and squared her shoulders. “What are you doing here, Jeff?” She raised her chin and did her best to look down her nose at him. “I set you up for that woman perfectly. Didn’t she come over to talk to you?”

“She did.” Jeff took a step forward, standing on the threshold and staring down at her. “She didn’t even wait five minutes.”

“And?” Annie prompted, taking a step backwards and leaning the pole against the wall next to the door.

“She was nice.” Jeff shook his head, lowering his phone from his ear as he did. “She gave me her number. She asked me a question about my March Madness bracket.” He lowered his phone completely, looking down at it and ending the call. He tucked it into his pocket, then reached forward and took Annie’s phone from her hand, ending the call on her end, and looked back up at her. “But she wasn’t really listening to my answer. She didn’t actually care.”

“I don’t care, either.” Annie said quietly, wondering how her normally noisy apartment was quiet for once and when her heating had begun working properly, as she felt like the temperature had gone up a good 10 degrees.

“I know.” Jeff’s eyes dropped to her lips for the length of a heartbeat, and his eyes were dark when they returned to her own. Annie held her breath, waiting for him to finish speaking. “But you listen even when you don’t care.” He smiled softly, and she stared at him or a moment before smiling back.

They were silent for a minute, unmoving and aware of the distant sound of the fridge humming and the muffled sound of traffic out on the slushy street.

Jeff leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers for several seconds before pulling back and looking down at her intently. Annie’s lips parted as her eyes opened, her breath rasping as she inhaled. She stepped forward, her lips meeting his as her arms went around his neck. 

Jeff’s shoulders relaxed, and one arm went round her waist as his other hand, still holding her phone, slipped to the back of her neck, holding her in place as their mouths slid against each other. He walked forward, nearly picking her up entirely as they went, before the hand at her neck reached out blindly for the door, slamming it closed and pressing her up against it.

Annie moaned in the back of her throat as his weight pinned her to the door, and her leg hitched up his side as she tightened her arms around his neck, trying to pull herself closer and higher at the same time. The arm at her waist pulled her closer, and Jeff started to back into her apartment. She pulled her mouth from his with a wet noise and turned her head to avoid his seeking lips, closing her eyes as those lips fastened on the spot where her jaw met her neck.

“Locks.” She managed to grind out, whining wordlessly when he pulled his head back far enough to meet her eyes. She grinned at the confused look on his face and glanced back at the door. “Door locks.”

Jeff grunted but let go of her waist to let her slide back to the ground, watching as she turned back to the door and set the deadbolts and chains. He turned away and crossed to the couch, setting her phone down on the end table and glancing over at the TV, which was showing an infomercial. Looking down at the couch cushions, he spotted the remote and leaned down to turn off the power.

A small noise behind him made him turn, and he came face to face with Annie: He took in her messy ponytail, her wide eyes and swollen lips in a flushed face scrubbed clean. He noticed the tendrils of hair curling at her hairline, the slightly darker shadows under her eyes and a slightly reddish patch of skin on her forehead from zealous exfoliation. She still wore the blouse and cardigan she’d had on earlier, but she’d already changed into a pair of purple pajama pants that hung low on her hips. Her feet were bare, and he realized he hadn’t once looked at her feet when everyone had disrobed in the study room months ago.

Staring down at her, Jeff felt impossibly large and out of place in the studio apartment with the lavender walls, the second-hand couch covered in a poorly fitting slipcover and the flowered comforter. He knew he should leave and wanted to stay: One look at her face showed she agreed. He swallowed and licked his lips.  
***  
Annie saw the look in Jeff’s eyes and realized this situation called for standing on her desk – metaphorically speaking. She nodded once, decisively, and reached up, putting a hand on each of his cheeks to pull his face down toward her own, claiming his lips with her own and boldly tracing them with her tongue. His hands went to her hips, pulling her close enough to feel not just the planes of his body but the heat radiating from him. She slid her hands back into his hair, tilting his head a little more to the side, then down his neck and over his shoulders, catching his coat and guiding it down his arms, tugging when it caught at his bent elbows. He understood her unspoken request and let go of her briefly, sliding the coat off entirely and tossing it over the back of couch, following in that direction a moment later as his hands returned to her hips.

Annie walked forward, sliding her hands back up his arms and bringing them to rest against his chest, her fingers on either side of the button placket of his dress shirt. She resisted when he tried to turn her toward the couch, instead rubbing a foot against the outside of his calf for a moment before sliding it around his shin and nudging his leg outward.

Jeff, his own hands busy working at the buttons on her cardigan, wasn’t expecting the sudden shift in his balance and fell backwards onto the couch with a grunt, which turned to a groan when Annie straddled him a moment later. 

She kissed him again and began to undo the buttons on his shirt, dragging her mouth from his and pressing it against his throat. She made quick work of the buttons and pulled back so she could undo the buttons at his cuffs, pulling each limp hand onto her thighs to reach them. Finished, she tentatively laid a hand on each shoulder, her fingertips digging into the warm flesh and muscle as she leaned forward to press her lips to the underside of his jaw.

The touch seemed to break whatever trance Jeff had been in for the last few minutes, as he raised his head from the back of the couch and sought her lips with his own, his hands returning to the buttons of her cardigan and then smoothing over the fabric of her blouse until he found a side zipper. He ran his hands up to her shoulders, where he slipped the cardigan down her arms. 

Annie let go of him long enough to finish shrugging off the sweater, then sank her fingers back into his hair. She scooted closer to him on his lap, mewling a little when Jeff’s hips pressed up into hers. She began trying to tug his shirt down and off his shoulders, finally pulling away from him when the shirt moved down only a few inches. She frowned at the offending garment before raising her eyes to meet his and licked her lips.

“ _Off_.” The frown turned to a bright, sweet smile when Jeff leaned forward, reaching behind to tug at his sleeves and pressing his lips to hers again. The smile stayed on her face as she placed both hands on his chest, one closer to his shoulder and one over his heart, and rocked against him gently.

Jeff’s hands caught the hem of her blouse, dragging it up and smiling back against her mouth as she lifted her arms and pulled back just enough for the fabric to clear her head. He tossed the blouse to one side, his eyes on the hair that had come loose from her ponytail, then dropping to follow the line of her throat to the swell of her breasts, which rose and fell quickly. His hands wrapped around her waist for a moment before sliding to the small of her back. He dragged his fingertips up her spine, pausing to unhook her bra, before cupping her shoulder blades. He urged her forward against his chest, kissing a trail from behind her ear to her collar bone, and ran his hands from her shoulders down to entwine his fingers with her own.

Annie, surprised by the gesture, drove her tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and running the tip along the ridge on the roof of his mouth. She rocked against him again, making a small mewling noise in the back of her throat, and tried to press herself as close to him as possible.

Jeff released one of her hands and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning and leaning her back against the couch while bracing his own weight over her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hips unconsciously pressing up against his own while their mouths continued to slide against each other. He rocked back against her, groaning as he did.

She slid her hands around to his back, digging her nails into the muscles in his back before slipping them around to the button of his fly. She popped the button free and tried to work the zipper down. 

Jeff paused, dragging his mouth away from hers and staring down until her eyes opened. They stared at each other for several minutes, the exhalations of one mingling with the inhalations of the other. He raised himself up on one arm enough that he could place a hand on her chest, covering the skin that trembled over her pounding heart. She mimicked the gesture, raising her head just enough to brush her lips against the corner of his mouth. He raised himself to a kneeling position, hooking his thumbs through her bra straps and dragging them down her arms.

The flush on her chest spread, and Annie looked off to the side as Jeff’s lips lowered to the tip of one breast. Her eyes closed, and she pressed her head back into a pillow, arching her neck and running her fingers through his hair before clenching her fingers into fists. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to pull his head away or hold it in place, but finally she tugged him away and pulled him up toward her own face. The shock of the cold air against her skin made her gasp, and she sighed when his tongue slipped inside to trace the inside of her gums.  
***  
Jeff felt one of Annie’s hands leave his back and slide down to grasp his ass. He put an arm under her back and pulled her with him as he raised himself into a kneeling position, wobbling a little as he tried to stand.

Annie pulled her head back and raised a single eyebrow as she gave him a skeptical look.

“You could always put me down.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. And I’m actually planning to sign up for Professor Professorson’s Summer conspiracy seminar.”

“That’s just mean.” Jeff sighed and lowered his head to her shoulder. He groaned a little as he tried to stand, then glared at Annie when one of her legs began to lower toward the ground. “Where are you going?”

“Um, down?” 

“Ye of little faith.”

“Says the agnostic.”

“Just give me a minute.” Jeff hitched her a little higher and managed to stand, giving her a triumphant look as he walked around the couch and headed for the bed. “Told you I could do it.”

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” She smiled at him, a rosy blush covering her cheeks. “I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself and not be able to continue.”

“Uh huh.” Jeff reached the bed and hesitated, looking from her to the turned down sheets and back. “How do you want-” He stopped as she began to look incredibly uncomfortable. “What?”

“Can’t we just-” Annie let go of his shoulder long enough to gesture vaguely at the bed. “You know.”

“Edison, if you can’t say it-”

“I’m repressed!” She pouted. “I can’t help it.”

“Right.” He chuckled. “Traditional it is, then.” He spun them so Annie’s back was to the bed and fell forward, muffling the shriek she let out with his mouth. As they both bounced against the mattress, he pulled back and smiled down at her softly. “This time.”


End file.
